…which resembled a mass of shambling, defeated zombies moving through the quarry.
A few remaining draft lizards wobbled along pulling heavy, catapult-like artillery pieces as well as medical wagons full of wounded. A couple of three-wheeled motor bikes cruised amidst the rabble of shuffling foot shoulders.
The Chaktaw fighters-still shocked at their defeat in front of Thebes-moved unaware they were being watched…
…by Trevor Stone through a pair of binoculars.
What Nina called a quarry seemed more a dirt path surrounded by banks of dusty soil and rocks, most likely the byproduct of the long-abandoned mining operation she had described.
None of that mattered to Trevor. What mattered was that the ‘quarry’ made for the perfect ambush. So perfect, in fact, he was surprised the Chaktaw had not scouted it first or at least moved their flank guards to the high ground.
Of course, the humans of Thebes had never pursued the attackers before. Perhaps The Committee's consistently weak and predictable response-or lack thereof-had lulled the Chaktaw into carelessness.
He observed the enemy column enter the long pass between the banks and held his hand aloft. He waited… waited…then waved the signal.
Short-range artillery shook the Chaktaw from their daze in a series of blasts claiming several easy victims. After that first volley, the collective holler of hundreds of human troops filled the quarry as they charged over the banks spitting rifle fire and tossing grenades.
Reverend Johnny swept the shocked column with his heavy weapon and while the design was foreign the results were quite familiar: enemy bodies torn to shreds, brown-shaded camouflage ponchos turned blood-red.
Nina emptied an entire clip from her bullpup carbine as she raced-nearly stumbled-down the slope. Instead of reloading, she discarded the rifle and pulled both pistols from their holsters. She fired madly, spent shell casings spewed from the ejector ports.
Some Chaktaw dropped to the ground and fired, others formed hasty lines of defense. Their guns answered and many humans fell in the barrage.
The second phase of the trap commenced with armored assault cars and gun-wielding buggies entering the quarry from the north and south, sealing their prey in a box.
Large chain guns swept a swath of death through the enemy ranks. Short range missiles pulverized pack animals and turned motor tricycles into smoldering ruins.
The Chaktaw managed to launch a few of their own anti-armor projectiles and knocked out several human vehicles…but not enough. Not nearly enough.
Trevor urged the wave of enraged humanity forward. Three of the enemy stood in his way, firing in his direction. Either through divinity or fortune, their shots went wide. Trevor’s fire did not. He emptied all his bullets into two poncho-wearing enemies. The third tried to reload. Trevor did not give him the chance; he drove his bayonet into the belly of his foe while screaming an angry roar; a beastly roar. The thrust of his weapon hoisted the humanoid off of his feet and threw him to the ground where the carcass rolled.
More chain guns; more of Nina’s dual pistols; more of First and Second Legion’s infantry firing rifles and throwing grenades.
Then it stopped.
Piles of bodies-some human, most not-filled the quarry…
… Pitiful moans and tearful medic calls replaced the sounds of battle. Dead and dying bodies formed piles across the floor of the quarry.
Trevor stepped over those bodies with his bayonet pointed down, waiting to spot movement and eager to put an end to any Chaktaw that still breathed. He stopped his work to eye a soldier leading three unarmed enemies away.
'Hey! Whoa! What’s this?'
The soldier answered, 'Prisoners, sir.'
Stone pulled his side arm. 'Prisoners? Fuuuck that.'
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Trevor holstered his gun and tried to get back to work but Nina approached with a question. 'What do we do with the bodies?'
As Trevor answered, he made sure his voice carried to any within earshot.
'We take our dead home. No one gets left behind, understand?'
Trevor emphasized his point by making eye contact with as many of soldiers as he could.
She asked, 'And the Chaktaw?'
He thought for a moment. He thought about how The Committee's ineptitude had taught the Chaktaw they could attack Thebes with impunity. He thought about humanity down to one last city; humanity trapped in a corner seemingly on the verge of total collapse.
Whatever mistakes his predecessor had made on this world, this Trevor would not do the same. It was time the Chaktaw and their ilk understood that Thebes would no longer be an easy target.
He told her, 'I have an idea…'
…The men worked. They smashed the Chaktaw’s carts and wagons into wood beams and metal poles and found straps, rope, and cord to bind and secure. They hammered and built and hoisted as the afternoon grew long and as the sun dropped toward horizon. The sound of their construction echoed over the quarry walls.
All the while Reverend Johnny watched. He watched with an expression that morphed from disbelief into shock into horror. He could not even register a protest to Trevor, for he feared what the response might be.
As the last light of day turned orange and flickered away behind the horizon ray by ray, Trevor’s masterpiece was complete.
While the armored vehicles and buggies loaded supplies and people and bodies in preparation for the return trip, Trevor and Nina stood in the shadows of his creation.
'So, what is it?' She asked.
Trevor told her the truth.
'A warning.'
His answer complete, he walked over to their buggy and climbed in the passenger’s seat. Reverend Johnny sat silent in the back.
Major Forest took one last look at what Trevor had constructed, then drove them away in the direction of Thebes; in the direction home.
They left behind the bodies of the Chaktaw, eviscerated bodies hanging upside down in the twilight; blood and gore dripping; arms dangling toward the ground and secured to roughshod crucifixes made of wood and metal.
Hundreds of them, lined together row upon row along the ridges of the quarry. On display for all to see. For all to know.
For all to fear.
20. Unleashed
'The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the Red Death.'
– The Masque of the Red Death, Edgar Allan Poe
Stone had expected a platoon of The Committee’s guards to arrest him at the city limits. Instead, his welcome-home party consisted of enthusiastic soldiers including many of the wounded who had survived the Chaktaw assault on the northern perimeter earlier that day.
While they represented only a tiny fraction of Thebes, the crowd would carry their enthusiasm across the city.
